Author: Farseeker

Genre: Romance/Angst

Multi-chaptered: Planning on it being so.

Warnings: Slight language, slash pairing, teacher/student relationships, (future) violence, and just very weird.

Pairing/s: Severus/Harry. Others may sneak in later, but that is the main one and the basis of this fic.

OOTP-Inclusive: Yes.

Summary: Sometimes the way you define hate and how others define it differ, and sometimes you can believe someone to hate you when they don't….

Author's Notes: I nearly snapped my fingernail off typing this. -.-; I've just stopped chewing them, and now I understand why people find it so painful. It's bleeding, look. I bled for this. My word.

A tiny child's ear pressed up against the door of the cupboard that served as his room, listening to the stories of school, university and life that the woman outside was promising her son. Eyes closed tight as he imagined that life belonging to him, a tiny, flickering hope for himself that is buffeted by the winds of isolation and fear, almost extinguished…

A mental slap and Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts was sent sprawling to the floor as the youth in front of him does the mental equivalent of throwing Severus out of his home and slamming the door. Green eyes glared down, and a mouth hung slack, gasping for air but still managing to grind out one word:

"Bastard."

A sneer, and Severus was off the floor. "On the contrary. That is a part of the Potter history, not mine. Again, Potter. One, two three—"

A mind jabbed forward, searching for a weapon to use, and another rose in a grim battle, struggling to push the other back and to fight off the rising tide of memories all too quick to betray—

A desperate shove, and Snape was once again forced out, though, having been prepared this time, he only sways back slightly. Potter stumbled forward a few paces, and Severus sneered.

"It still requires too much effort from you to force me from your mind, boy. If it is that hard to rid yourself of me than you stand no chance against him."

No reply, as the youth straightened and readied himself again, and Severus smirked.

"Ah, the courage of foolish Gryffindors. Get out, boy, it is no use us continuing tonight."

For a moment Severus thought that the young man might refuse, but then he turned, grabbed his bag and exited the room without a word. Severus watched him go and then moved from his study through to his living room. He summoned a bottle of scotch and a small glass, filling it to the halfway point before taking a small sip.

"So that is the new Potter, then, is it?"

Seventh year, and although the other teachers had commented on how well Harry was handling the pressure, Severus could see the truth. The school year had only just started and yet it was clear that there had been a dramatic change in the boy.

No longer a boy, Severus had to remind himself, and it was true. Harry had left the school last year a child – you needed only glance at his eyes to see that he was screaming inwardly at the unfairness of it all. Now when you glanced at his eyes – at least when he was around friends – you would most likely see happiness and a good-natured humour that made Severus' teeth grate.

It was only if you bothered to look deeper that you saw the grim determination and a bitter acceptance that, when on the rare occasion that it was shown, looked too old on a face such as his.

Severus snorted and flicked his wand at the fireplace, lighting a blaze large enough to warm but small enough to escape being cosy, and settled on one of the chairs around the heart, staring into the flames for a moment before downing the rest of his drink.

"So, then…this looks, perhaps, to be an interesting year…"

* * *

A spell struck the youth in the middle of the chest, making him gasp and begin to bleed rapidly from under the fingernails. A sharp word and a brushing-aside movement and the blood stopped.

"You didn't even try to avoid that one, Potter! I know you're pandered to in your Defence classes but I would at least expect some basic instinct for self preservation!"

A curse was all the reply Severus got, and he barely managed to avoid it, heat crackling through the air and warming his robes suddenly as the spell rushed past. Severus ignored it though and spun, knowing the spell was cast with the purpose of missing –

A wand pressed gently under his chin, and looked down into green eyes gone dark from the rush of magic and adrenalin, pupils so large the irises seemed to have almost disappeared. There was a moment of absolute stillness and then the wand was lowered.

"That was somewhat better, Mr Potter, although nowhere near the level you're going to need if you want to even scratch the Dark Lord. That is all for today, get out."

Severus watched Potter leave, noting the slight slump of his shoulders and the drooping eyes. There was a brief moment in which Snape considered offering the young man a bottle of Dreamless Sleep, but he pushed the thought aside. If Potter still could not rid himself of Voldemort-filled dreams then he deserved the obvious lack of sleep. It was not, after all, a lack of effort on Severus' part.

* * *

Severus placed a bottle on the desk in front of him, watched by Harry with a clear lack of understanding.

"This, Mr Potter, is Dreamless Sleep. I trust you would know what it does, considering your impressive record with the Hospital Wing."

A nod, although there is still a lack of comprehension as to what it had to do with his training.

"Today we will combine the two subjects that you have been studying under me. We will duel using both Occlumency and normal spells to defend. We will attack with no holds barred, Mr Potter, and if you win, this bottle," Severus tapped the cork at the top and then the side of the bottle with his wand, the movements being followed by Harry's eyes all the while, "will be yours."

Harry's eyes widened at this and then narrowed as he nodded his agreement. Severus smirked and lifted his wand; Harry did the same.

"Ready, Mr Potter?"

Another nod, the young man's eyes never leaving Snape's face.

"Alright then, on my count. One, two, three-"

"Incarcerous!"

Severus dodged the ropes that came flying out of Harry's wand, and shot back his own attack.

"Legilimens!"

Harry buckled for a moment under the pressure on his mind before shoving Snape away. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Severus sidestepped the attack easily. "Impedimenta!"

Harry was knocked to the ground by the attack but flipped himself back onto his feet. There was a second's pause and then Harry was running towards Severus, ducking lower to avoid the hexes Snape threw at him until he was brought to a stop by a Tarantallegra curse, his feet moving feverishly beneath him for a few moments before he removed the spell.

By that time Severus had moved away, and Harry spun to face him before launching another attack.

The duel continued for over an hour, curses and spells flying through the air. Both men were breathing heavily; furniture and books litter the floor of the room. Harry was tiring, however, his movements becoming easier to read as his response to attacks slowed.

"Stupefy!"

Harry barely managed to avoid the attack, turning out of the way just in time.

"Legilimens!"

There was a moment of surprise on Severus' part at the fact that Harry had used the spell at all, although it was as easy to brush away as a stray sheet of parchment.

"Stupefy!"

Severus turned away from the spell only to run into another, and as he fell he saw two more shoot by just to the side of him, and Potter's face, an expression of grim concentration at maintaining all the spells—

"…ervate."

Snape opened his eyes and blinked at the ceiling. Harry, who had been kneeling beside him, stood and offered a hand to him. After a moment Severus took it, allowing Harry to help him to his feet.

"Well, Mr Potter, that was quite an interesting choice of action. You win this time, but remember that when the final battle comes there will most likely be Death Eaters about and that kind of tactic will not do you any good."

Severus realised that Potter was staring at him, his eyes the same as the last time they had duelled, and he was standing close. Snape lifted an eyebrow at him, wondering if Harry realised their proximity. Irritation flashed in the young man's eyes, and a kind of recklessness that reminded Severus of how Harry's eyes had once been, when he was in first and second year, and then he was moving forward, even closer…

Severus blinked. There were dry, slightly cracked lips pressed against his, and a hand hovering over his shoulder, close enough for him to feel the slight pressure in the way that the material of his robes shifted but not enough to feel it on his arm.

There was a moment in which Severus wished to grab the young man and hold him there whether he wished to stay or not, and another as he reminded himself that he was not a monster, and allowed Harry a second to pull back, stammering apologies and excuses and flee, dignity torn but safe in the knowledge that it had been nothing, meant nothing, was just a mistake.

The second stretched, drew out and then was gone, and Severus lifted a hand to touch Harry's cheek gently, pulling him closer and returning the kiss. After a second Harry pulled back, gasping for breath and obviously surprised at what had just happened, although whether at Severus' actions or his own it was impossible to tell. After a brief moment in which Severus was sure he'd run, Harry shook his head and kissed him again, standing on tiptoe to reach his lips and then overbalancing, falling forward so that Severus had to either catch him or let him fall so Severus grabbed at him, supporting his weight and leaning down to take control of the kiss. Harry's hands reached out and grabbed at his robes, clinging to Severus. They stood there for a moment, seemingly frozen in time and then Harry pulled back, stumbling away, grabbing his bag and running toward the door. It was only when he was in the doorway that Severus found his voice, and the words.

"Mr Potter!"

Harry flinched and turned to look back at Severus.

"I have no qualms with your leaving boy—after all, we both know who initiated what just happened." A smirk and Harry's eyes skittered away to look out at the hall and then back, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. "However, I will not tolerate you leaving without an explanation as to why you are leaving now."

Harry swayed in the doorway, unsure of whether to run to the safety of his room or answer the question, but there had been a promise of retribution if the truth was not given behind the delicately phrased question.

"You hate me."

An eyebrow rose, and a response that, in Severus' mind, reveals nothing, but in Harry's reveals everything.

"And…?"

Harry licked his lips again, glancing once more to the relative safety of the hall.

"You hate me, and I don't hate you."

Then he was gone, footsteps echoing up the hall and away from Severus, who lifted fingers to his lips, unusually warm in the cold of the dungeons. He turned to face the only piece of furniture in the room that had not been disturbed by their duel.

On the table in the centre of the room there was a bottle of Dreamless Sleep.